


until death

by anon_drabble



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, POV First Person, Tumblr Prompt, dialogue prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 22:03:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18669247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anon_drabble/pseuds/anon_drabble
Summary: a dialogue prompt from tumblr: Hey~! From the prompt list #85 “don’t lie to me” maybe mixed with #49 “who hurt you” for Jumin x Mc please 💕hi there, did you order some angst, anon? because that’s what my fingers decided to give. 😂 sorry! but it has a happy-ish ending at least!mc/narrator died unexpectedly but she can't seem to leave jumin.wrote this in about an hour at 2 am because when the inspiration strikes, it strikes hard. so there may be typos and errors.





	until death

When I died, I wasn’t by his side. Not like I promised. But I also didn’t expect to die. Not like that. I was still young. Too young to consider that my last words to him would be from a fight.

They say an unexpected death can tie your spirit to the world. Or a violent death. No on expected my death but there’s something else they believe will cause a spirit to linger. Regret. And I think that’s why I’m still here. Because I couldn’t be by his side like I’d promised.

Now, in a way, I am with him. I can’t leave. My spirit, my ghost, my _essence_ , whatever you want to call it is here. Watching him. I still love him. That promise I kept. Whenever he’s in his penthouse, I’m there with him, though he doesn’t know. Sometimes I see Elizabeth look in my direction, like she sees me or knows I’m there. Maybe she does. I heard cats can sense things humans can’t. So I say hello to her or wave when she looks my way.

I don’t really know how I died. Well, they know _how_ but not really why. The how was a heart attack. But I was young, mostly healthy. There seemed to be no underlying cause. My heart just…stopped. I had gone home that night, back to the apartment. I was in the process of moving out, officially joining Jumin in his home. We’d just gotten married and gotten back from the honeymoon. And I was starting to move in. And then I saw the folder in Jumin’s room. Normally I don’t look through his things but I thought it might be our wedding photos. Instead, I found a letter from a woman, thanking him for the date. Receipts for an expensive restaurant I remembered him taking me to. A note from his father thanking Jumin for taking the woman out. Everything was dated recently, definitely during the time Jumin had been with me. I confronted him. He argued it was because his father had made him, it hadn’t been a date, just a business dinner. But I was upset.

“Don’t lie to me!” I yelled at him when I stormed out. I went back to the apartment.

And I never saw Jumin again.

Well. Not alive, anyways. Now I always saw him. Every minute. I watched over him. The first few weeks or months, I cried constantly. Begged him to see me. Apologized over and over. Tried to touch him, to leave him messages.

“Just please… I need him to know I love him. With all my heart. Forever. I can’t let a stupid, meaningless argument get in the way,” I pleaded the powers that be.

But I also saw him mourn. I watched him lose me. That was its own special hell and I won’t talk about it here. I’ve never experienced anything worse. I watched his pain, removed and yet far too close. But that was a long time ago, now. Almost a year.

In fact, it would be a year in a matter of days. The anniversary of my death was coming. Jumin cleared his schedule. He’d visit my grave, probably sit there in silence all day. He never said anything when he went. He just sat there. But I was his wife. I knew. Knew how his stomach twisted, how his chest felt so empty and hollow it hurt. How it felt like every beat of his heart was a betrayal, keeping him away from me. I knew he wanted to join me. He didn’t want to go on alone. But no matter how I tried to tell him to live on, he never got my messages. But day by day, he went on.

My husband was so strong. In his weakest moments, when he doubted everything, he was still so strong.

The anniversary day came. As I expected, he spent the day at my grave. I cried for him, and I cried with him, though he never shed a tear. I missed him as much as he missed me. He went home, had a bottle of wine, went to bed. I always stayed next to him when he slept. I couldn’t hug him and he couldn’t hold me, but I still stayed there. Always by his side. Like I hadn’t been when I died.

For some reason, I dreamed that night. I hadn’t dreamed since I died. I hadn’t really slept in the normal sense. I just usually waited, pretending to sleep. But this time, I dreamt. I dreamt I woke up in Jumin’s room, the darkness blinding me. Another problem I hadn’t had since I died.

I stirred, felt Jumin’s warm body next to mine. I snuggled close, speaking his name softly. I didn’t think, didn’t realize how long it had been since I’d done that.

He responded by saying my name. Groggy, yet articulated and clear, just like Jumin. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too. Always. Forever. I’ll never leave you,” I replied, burying myself in his arms.

“But you did leave me,” he said, sounding troubled. Then we both woke up. Sat up. He looked at me. Right at me. Not through me.

“Jumin?” I asked, reaching out, my hand touching his cheek. Actually touching him! Like I had done when I was alive.

“How is this possible? You… died.”

I nodded. “A year ago. But I’ve been here the whole time. With you. After I died, I just appeared here.” I hugged him, desperate to feel that embrace again. He hesitated but put his arms around me.

“This can’t be real,” he said, always the pragmatist.

“It can be. If we just pretend,” I said, asking him to just lie to me, just this once. Act like we were together again.

“I don’t want to pretend,” he said. “I’d have to lose you again. I’d rather this stay a sweet dream.”

I smiled a little, wiped a tear from my eye. “Okay. It’s a dream, then. Our dream. I’ve missed you, Jumin. So much. I love you, still. Every second. I’m sorry we fought over such a stupid reason. I was going to come back the next night. Really. I just…never got the chance.” I sniffled and he moved his thumb across my cheek, clearing away the tear track. “And I just wanted to apologize and tell you I didn’t mean it. I overreacted and I knew you loved me but I overreacted and did the stupidest thing ever and I left you alone and now here we are.”

“I know, my love. My kitten. I knew. It did not lessen my pain but I knew. You needn’t have worried. But we still find ourselves in this position. In something of a cruel dream that I don’t want to wake from. Not if it means losing you again.”

“No, Jumin. This dream is a gift. We can talk to each other again. Do you know how many times I’ve just wanted to tell you I love you? But I can’t. And you haven’t lost me, not truly. I’ve been here with you all the time. And I will stay with you because that’s what I promised when we got married. I won’t break that promise again.” I put my arms around his neck, held him tightly. Smelled him, just like I’d done hundreds of times when I was alive.

I felt him hug me back, tighter than before. Like he couldn’t bear to let me go. I knew how he felt. “My love… I don’t want this to end,” I heard him murmur, his voice betraying his fear.

“I know, Jumin. But I’m not going far. I know we can’t really talk or hold each other like this but now you know I’m still always here with you. Does that make it any better?” I asked, smoothing his hair.

“No,” he replied stubbornly. I laughed. It had been a sort of running joke we had. He’d rarely behave like the spoiled rich son around me, knowing I’d always take care of him. So even when he knew he was being difficult and I’d ask him logically to take care of things, he’d say no. And I’d always joke back.

“And who hurt you?” was my line and I blurted it out before I thought about it. It had always been a joke, a gentle tease that obviously someone had hurt Jumin to make him so spoiled. But this time, as soon as I said it, I shrunk back. This time, it was me. I’d hurt him.

But he just hugged me, kept me against him. I felt his breathing, even though I felt his heartbeat. But he couldn’t feel the same from me. “This dream is a cruel blessing. But it gives me the opportunity to tell you I love you, to hold you once more.” He kissed me, though my lips tasted of tears. How was it possible that I could cry but not breathe? How was that fair? “To kiss you again. You did not hurt me. You healed me from so much pain. Now, should we end this on a pleasant note?” he asked me gently.

“No,” I pouted, then laughed a little.

“Who hurt you?” he replied, that smile only I knew, only I could cause on his face.

“No one but myself husband,” I answered softly. “I only hurt myself.”

“Then allow me to heal your wounds as you have done for me.” He kissed me again, and when our eyes opened, we were no longer together. I was beside him in bed but he could not see me. I couldn’t feel his warmth anymore. His arms held nothing but air.

He told me he loved me again and tried to go back to sleep. He pretended for my sake but I could tell he couldn’t sleep anymore.

And his life went on. I stayed with him, as I’d promised. I gratefully accepted the reality this time, wanting to stay with him. I’d told him I wouldn’t leave but I’d been afraid I might be sent on, having possibly resolved my “unfinished business”, as they say. But I didn’t. I remained. Together but apart from Jumin. But this time, he’d greet me when he came home from work. He’d follow Elizabeth’s gaze when she looked at me, and he’d smile. He told me he loved me every night when he went to bed. And I did the same. Every night, every morning, I’d greet him, tell him I loved him. Smile back at him.

And when the second anniversary of my death came and he went to the graveyard again, this time he spoke. Talked to me the whole day. Then he went home, had a bottle of wine, and went to sleep, with his nightly message to me as always.

“Wake up, my wife.” I felt him shake me in our dream.

“No,” I responded, with a sly grin.

“And who hurt you this time?” he asked.

I was still dead. Jumin still lived. But now we knew we had one night a year together again. It wasn’t the same. But it was something we could share.

‘Til death do you part?

No. Not even death could part us.

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on my tumblr: https://anon-drabble.tumblr.com  
> if you're able, i definitely recommend you visit the tumblr where i do reblog prompts and also post additional content like much shorter fluff pieces and headcanons.  
> i always accept requests ♥


End file.
